by Angie Fox
I was completely cut off from my powers. Heck, I’d probably cut myself right now if I reached for a switch star.
Behind it lurked the malevolent, silent smugness of the spirit. He’d seized my power. He’d wanted my heart. My babies.
“You can’t have them,” I muttered furiously. “I won’t let you.”
It’s my price, he said, as if it were logical, as if he’d already won.
“I never agreed to it,” I raged. “I will never agree.”
With all due respect, you have nothing to fight me with. But I like you, Elizabeth, and therefore I will give you a choice.
I stood with my hands on my hips, waiting, dreading as he played his game. “Spill it,” I ordered. I was sick of his manipulation.
Watch your tone, he warned. Here’s the deal: either I take your powers and leave you to die, or I take your children and their powers.
“You’re a monster,” I gritted out.
I’m a survivor. Just like you. His calm tone angered me, but his next words chilled me to the core. And, Elizabeth, I was just kidding about you having a choice. I want the babies.
14
“We’ll think of something,” Dimitri swore to me.
The witches had been stunned into silence after I delivered the spirit’s message.
“We’ll figure this out,” I said to him, although I feared in my heart of hearts that we were already beaten. This thing knew my every move.
How could we mount an attack, much less a surprise attack, on a spirit that could literally hear my thoughts?
Ant Eater coughed and glanced to Grandma. “These are all bust now,” she said, waving a hand at the ward bags, “but I’m thinking we have supplies for a ward like the one we used to outrun the Banshee of Tulsa.”
A bald witch behind her nodded hard. “Only one,” she warned. “We’re out of fairy cross stones, and those damn things take weeks to absorb the spells properly.” She glanced at me, apologetic, as if she had anything to be sorry for. “Still, one should last you for a while. Long enough for us to come up with a plan.”
There is no plan you can make that I cannot break, the spirit whispered in my head. No force you can muster that I cannot overcome. You can’t touch me without your powers, Elizabeth. You are weak now and will grow ever weaker. Give me what I want, and I’ll let you live. Deny me, and I will make your last hours on this plane a misery.
“No, you psycho.” Not when he wanted my babies. I glanced to the bald witch. “Not you,” I added. I turned my focus back to Ant Eater. “Let’s do it.”
Outside the door, I could hear Pirate shouting, “Lizzie! Lizzie, what happened? Bob and me and your dad all want to know! Lizzie!”
Oh no, Cliff. Of course he was out there, probably worried out of his mind over Hillary. “You should go talk to Dad,” I told her. “Let him know you’re okay.”
She looked at me as if all were lost. For all I knew, it was. “And what do I tell him about you?”
“Tell him the truth. That we’re working on a plan to save me…and the babies.”
“The babies.” Her eyes filled with tears, but she managed a smile. “Oh my goodness, I can hardly believe it. My baby is having her own babies. And twins!” I could tell she wanted to gush, but with things so uncertain, she just couldn’t quite bring herself to. I appreciated the restraint.
Hillary kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll let him know what’s going on.” She left, and Pirate slipped through the door and jumped up onto the altar.
“Lizzie!” he said accusingly. “You’ve been playing with Mr. Nibbles without me!”
I could only assume Mr. Nibbles was the rabbit, and was suddenly extremely grateful it had survived the ritual. “We’ve been working, not playing.”
Pirate huffed and licked my chin. “You should have asked me to help you. I’m better at work than bunny rabbits. Mr. Nibbles would run at the first hint of danger, poof! Whereas I’m extremely ferocious.”
I chuckled. It wasn’t much, but it made me feel a lot lighter. “Yes, very ferocious.”
“I am! I’ve fought imps and skeletons and, and dandelions, because those make you sneeze.” He looked at me proudly. “See? I remember these things.”
I scratched behind his ears. Pirate panted with joy. “My hero.”
“That’s me.”
I tried to enjoy my dog, the newfound feel of pregnancy, motherhood—I still didn’t know what to think about it. Both were better focuses than the witches, who had Dimitri hauling out a garden shovel and other tools to cobble together the new ward.
He was an alpha male and a team player, a man who did what he had to do to take care of the people he loved.
A man who would do anything to save his children.
I sighed. Dimitri would do anything for me, would fight any fight, would fly to the ends of the earth if he had to, but I didn’t see how he could help me with this. Not when I was already in so deep.
Please let it be all right.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the witches to cobble together another ward, this one wrapped tight with a soft cotton cord that ended in a sliding loop. Grandma held the bag in both hands and solemnly delivered it to me. “Give me your hand.”
It won’t help you, the spirit snarled, shoving against my chest, tearing at my insides as I extended my arm. I am in you. I have you. The more you fight me, the sweeter it will be when I—
The bag settled tightly around my wrist, and his voice went silent.
“Holy moly,” I whispered.
“Yeah, we used the last of it in there,” Grandma agreed.
“Not that,” I said. I took a deep breath then sighed it out with a sense of pure relief. “I can’t hear him anymore.”
Grandma nodded firmly. “Good.” She looked me over with a critical eye. “I think the best thing you can do for yourself right now is to get some rest. The Skulls and I can keep at it—”
“All night, if we need to,” Creely added. “I’ve got two cases of Red Bull cooling in Cliff’s golf bag.” I gave her a double take, and she shrugged. “It’s insulated. And I took out the clubs.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” I told her, and them.
It hurt to say. It was like being told I couldn’t help prepare the ceremony we’d just gone through, only at least now I understood. The witches had made the right call. And now, it wasn’t just that the spirit could overhear—it was the fact that I had no powers at all. I was also bone-tired and pregnant. My head ached, and my bra felt about two sizes too small.
Dimitri kept his arm around me as we walked out of the pool house into the warm Georgia night air. Pirate trotted along next to us, but he got sidetracked at the back door to the house, where Hillary met him with a bowl of steak tips.
“I’ll watch him tonight,” she promised me. “I set up your old room for you.”
“Thanks.” I nodded.
Cliff stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets but a deep crease marring his forehead. He watched me with a seriousness I wasn’t used to seeing from him.
Our relationship had never been as fraught as the one I had with Hillary, but it hadn’t been as close either. He’d traveled in and out of my life as a kid, providing generic approval and gentle affection, but no real memorable moments.
“Are you doing okay, Lizzie?” he asked.
I was happy I could answer honestly. “I’m fine.” For now.
“For now,” he said, which kind of surprised me. “But it’s a touchy situation, if what I understand from your mother is correct.”
“It is, but…” I shrugged a little helplessly. “Grandma and the Red Skulls are working on it. Right now, I just need to sleep.”
“Of course.” He opened his arms, and I stepped in for a hug. “Congratulations, sweetie,” he said softly, and I had to fight off a sudden bout of tears. He knew about the pregnancy.
“Thank you,” I managed. I wanted to be happy, but I couldn’t quite manage it. I pulled back. “I—Dimitri an
d I are going to…” I pointed at the stairs.
“Okay, Lizzie. Get a good rest.”
We walked up the stairs together, Dimitri never taking his arm from me. We walked past four bedrooms because, well, that was my parents’ place. But finally, finally we reached my old room at the end of the hall, overlooking the backyard.
We walked inside and I shut the door behind us.
The room was just as pink as I remembered—pale pink carpet, a white bedspread with cherry blossoms unfolding across it, bouquets of roses on every papered wall, and a vanity mirror in a pink ceramic frame. Not for the first time, I wanted to open the window and toss it all out onto the back lawn.
But like it or not, this room was part of who I was, part of what had made me into the person I was.
And as I made my way to the glaringly frilly bed, I felt a strange sort of comfort at being back in my childhood room. I didn’t belong in this place anymore, but I still knew it. It hadn’t changed, even when everything else around me did.
My mom had stacked fresh towels on the dresser by the en suite bath, along with two thick, comfy-looking robes. At least my mom had gotten over her “no sleeping together under my roof” nonsense. I walked over to the bed and fell down onto my back. “Ugh.”
Dimitri sat down beside me and ran his fingers through my hair. “Do you want to go straight to sleep or shower first?”
Sleep was tempting, but… “Shower,” I decided. I was redolent with sweat, tacky with dried pool water and dusted with twelve kinds of spell gunk. I needed to be clean. I rubbed a hand idly over his thigh as I looked up at the ceiling. The ward bag attached to my wrist bumped against both of us. “I’ll have to be careful washing. I don’t want to get this thing wet.”
“Lizzie.” There was a yearning in Dimitri’s voice. I glanced up at him, and he looked solemnly down at me. “Let me take care of it for you.”
I tilted my head. “You want to shower with me?”
The corner of his mouth tilted into a sly grin. “Yeah.”
That was fine—we showered together a lot, and they usually didn’t end up being entirely cleanliness oriented—but there was more at work here. “What’s wrong?” What isn’t?
Dimitri cracked a half smile, but it looked forced. “I haven’t been much help to you lately.”
Wait a second, no. I struggled to sit up. “Are you kidding me? In Philippa’s garden—”
He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have let Calvin kill us. And apart from that, it’s just been you and the witches and this spirit, and with everything we know now…” His free hand bunched into a fist. “I feel useless,” he confided, whispering it like a shameful secret. “Like I can’t protect you. I couldn’t protect you, look at you, and I couldn’t protect our babies either, and now—”
“You didn’t know,” I interjected. “Dimitri, you didn’t know. Heck, I didn’t even know things could go this bad. I wouldn’t have gotten in this deep if I’d had any idea I was pregnant.” That was my own shame to bear.
I felt my breath catch, but now wasn’t the time for tears. Fricking hormones. I was so tired that if I started crying, I’d never make it into the shower. “C’mon, let’s go clean up. You’re in charge.”
He took a deep breath, then gently kissed my mouth and stood up. “I like the sound of that.”
The en suite bathroom was as pink as the rest of the place, the colors of coral and sand. It reminded me of the beach, which made me pine for our condo back in California. The room was also meticulously clean and stocked with soap, shampoo and conditioner. It didn’t take long for the water to warm up—this house had dual hot water heaters. The bathroom became steamy, the mirror fogging over completely, but instead of jumping in, I let Dimitri undress me, piece by piece.
He unzipped my booties and slipped them off, unbuttoned my flowered dress and found the soft lacy bra underneath. My breasts felt achy and swollen, and it was a relief to finally set them free. I closed my eyes and cupped them with both hands, holding them gently, and wondered how I hadn’t realized it earlier. I was pregnant, not getting over a massive adrenaline hangover. Pregnant. Babies. Oh my god, twins.
Dimitri gently guided me into the shower before I had a chance to freak out. He joined me, keeping my warded wrist by the shower curtain and blocking the spray with his body. He was naked—how had I missed him getting undressed? The man didn’t hesitate when he saw something he wanted.
I looked at him appreciatively now, taking in every familiar angle and curve. Dimitri clothed was a sight to see—naked, he put Michelangelo’s David to shame.
Water hit his back and ran over his broad shoulders and chest in tempting rivulets. The muscles of his arms stood out as he bracketed me protectively, and the dark curls at his groin weren’t doing much to hide the fact that he was becoming aroused. Heck, so was I just by looking at him. “Dimitri…”
He stopped me with a kiss—not a hard, demanding one, not a kiss that challenged me, but one intense and worshipful. He caressed me with desperate gentleness, and I melted against him. “Dimitri, please.”
He cleared his throat. “Not in here,” he said. “We have to keep the ward dry.” Unable to tear his eyes from me, he fumbled for the shampoo, finally finding it. “Bend your head forward. I’ve got you.”
I bent, and he wet my hair then lathered in the shampoo. It smelled like orange blossoms, fresh and clean and slightly sweet. I inhaled deeply and let myself relax, surrendering to my husband’s tender care.
He washed my hair, then my body, lingering over the still-flat expanse of my stomach and handling my breasts so delicately I barely felt the washcloth. I definitely felt his lips follow it, though. My eyes flashed open as Dimitri’s tongue laved my nipple, coaxing it into a peak. I gasped and pressed closer to him, barely remembering not to grab his shoulders and pull him in closer. “Dimitri, I need—you.” I savored his touch. “Always you.”
He pulled away, and his expression was almost feral. “Bed,” he said, his voice gravelly with desire. He shut the water off, and we got out of the shower, not bothering to use the towels. He picked me up in his arms, carried me out to the bed, and laid me down. Then he knelt between my legs and—
“Dimitri!” I was already wet for him, and when he touched his tongue to my clit and pressed his fingers inside me, I felt the sharp tug of an orgasm. It would be a fast one—I was so ready for him, ready to come.
He thrust with his hand as he licked me, chasing the taste of me, and I savored every bit of it. Feeling, reaching, needing, I arched my back and wailed, quivering with the force of my own pleasure.
I rocked against him, needing the release he gave like I needed my next breath.
I rode it with him until the tremors began to fade, until I once again felt my back against the bed, my tingling body. I let out a moan. “Oh my god, you’re amazing.” I made a gimme motion with my hands. “Come up here. I want you.” I could see how ready he was, his thick cock so hard.
Dimitri smiled, dark and devilish. I shivered with delight.
“Let’s try something different,” he said.
Before I knew it, he had swept me up and switched places with me, him on his back, me straddling his upper thighs. The head of his cock brushed my clit, and I bit my lip at the sweet zing of pleasure it sent pulsing through me.
“This way I can look at you,” he said, and the hunger in his voice made me shiver. “I want to see all of you. I want to watch you come undone for me.”
“I always come undone for you,” I gasped. It was true. Dimitri brought out my passionate side in a way I’d never experienced with anyone else. I couldn’t even imagine my world without him anymore.
If he felt the same, then no wonder he wanted to see me right now. He needed to see that I was here, that I was with him. He needed to feel it.
I could do that, with pleasure. I slid forward until the head of his cock was positioned at my entrance, then slowly, carefully I took him inside. Once I finally settl
ed down on his hips, I grinned with pure satisfaction.
Dimitri’s eyes were glazed with lust, but he didn’t thrust. Instead, he waited for me.
The shower had been about letting him take the lead—but it was my turn to take control. I swear the man knew what I needed better than I did sometimes.
And so I took control. I relished the feeling of knowing what I wanted and how to get it. I let go of my pain and my doubt and rode him exactly how I wanted: slow. Slow enough to make him groan. I took and I gave and I cherished him. Us. Before I finally had mercy and sped up.
I braced my hands on his chest as I moved, and his fingertips rose to brush my breasts. He began to thrust, pumping his hips to my rhythm, and I moaned with delight as we rocked together. It was so good. It was always so good with him. I felt filled in every possible way, connected to him more deeply than I used to be able to imagine. He was mine, and I was his, and together we were something beautiful.
Dimitri rubbed his thumbs over my nipples then tugged them ever so gently, and that was enough to set me off again. I ground down against him, every muscle inside me squeezing tight, and this time Dimitri came with me, erupting inside me with a hoarse shout.
I clenched and quivered through the aftershocks until my arms almost collapsed. I settled down against him, and he held me tightly, his face pressed to the top of my head, his arms stronger than any armor.
“I love you so much, Lizzie.” He whispered it like a confession, one of his hands coming to rest on my belly again. “I love everything we are together, everything we’ve made. I won’t lose you.” The I can’t beneath his words came through loud and clear.
“I love you too,” I told him, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “We’re going to figure this out, Dimitri. I know it.”
We would. Or we’d die trying.
15
A knock startled me out of a surprisingly deep sleep.
“Lizzie?” my dad’s voice called from the hallway. Sunlight streamed through the window right above the bed, searing my corneas as I blinked awake. Ugh, I’d forgotten to pull the blinds. That window had been the bane of my teenage years. I didn’t feel much better rested now than I had then, either.
